Healing
by justanoutlaw
Summary: After a rough parenting day, Mulan gives Marian a massage.


**For day 21 of Femslash February: Tender**

"Regina would let me!"

It's an argument Marian knows her 5-year-old doesn't say to hurt her. She isn't even mad at Regina for it. Deep down, she knows that Regina, as sweet as she is to the son they split time with, isn't a pushover. She's taken Roland for ice cream, but would never let him have it before supper. Regina, Robin and Marian know it's important to be a united front.

Even so, Regina is the cool step-mom that can magic up anything his little heart desires for desert. She makes cleaning up fun, by coming up with different games. Regina's done it all before and it seems she knows which mistakes not to make. Marian also knows that Regina walks a fine line with Roland. She's not "just a step-mom", but it's more complicated than that. Blended families normally are.

Yes, Marian tries not to take it personally. Her son doesn't have favorites. At the moment, he's just an angry 5-year-old, because she said he could wait until after dinner for his favorite treat. He has a right to be angry. He'll apologize for his words.

That doesn't mean they don't hurt.

She sits on the porch of her cabin, staring out into the distance. Being alive again comes with so many amazing things…it also comes with so many challenges. Roland had just been a baby when she died. There were no "I hate you's" or arguments. Now she gets to be his mother, even if it means in the ways he doesn't like.

"You look like you could use some tea."

Mulan's voice pulls her out of her trance. She looks up at her girlfriend and gives her a smile. Long gone is the Enchanted Forest garb she once met her in. Now, she opts for flannel shirts and torn jeans. Her long black hair is thrown back in a ponytail. A mug is in each of her hands and Marian can smell the peppermint.

"And since you're an adult," Mulan continues. "I think you can have a little treat in it before dinner."

Marian's smile widens. "You know me so well."

Mulan hands her the mug before sitting on the edge of the chair. She sets her own mug onto the table next to Marian. Mulan moves her girlfriend's thick, curly hair from out of the way and moves back her blue blouse. She begins to rub her shoulders. The touch is tender, loving. Marian allows herself to be immersed in it.

The wind rustles the trees, causing Marian to shiver a bit. Mulan pulls her closer and presses a warm kiss to her cool cheek. Her fingers dig softly into Marian's back as she gets further down.

"You're doing a good job, Mare."

Marian sighs, taking a sip of her tea. "Some days it doesn't feel like it."

"He's a kid, an upset one no less."

"It's hard to compete."

"I think that's where you're wrong. You don't have to compete with her. She's his step-mom and they love each other, but you're his mom. He has room in his heart for both of you."

"You really think so?"

"I watch him curl up on your lap whenever we watch a movie. The way he asks to sit next to you at the diner. Without a doubt, you are one of his favorite people in the world, Marian. He loves you, no matter what."

Marian nods, moving her finger around the rim of the mug. It isn't often that Mulan is wrong.

"He asks for you when it comes to bedtime stories," Marian points out. "And he wants to learn to fight with a sword just as much as he wants to learn to shoot an arrow."

A shy smile-somewhat of a rarity-forms across Mulan's face. "He's not half-bad."

Mulan had never thought about kids before she met Marian, and the latter knows this. Yet, as soon as they began dating, she was attentive to him. She listened to his stories. She never seemed impatient or bored. It was what made Marian fall even more in love with her girlfriend.

"Come on," she says to Mulan. "Dinner's almost ready and I think Roland and I need to have a talk."

Mulan's hands reluctantly leave her back and she helps Marian out of the chair. "I guess the rest of the massage will have to wait until after bedtime."

Marian giggles. "And I can't wait."


End file.
